


stars in the night sky (obscured by the city lights)

by khrysallis



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 16:48:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3776071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khrysallis/pseuds/khrysallis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baekhyun was akin to the ever elusive stars in the night skies of the city to Chanyeol, shining brightly in one moment, completely imperceptible in the next. Rockband!AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stars in the night sky (obscured by the city lights)

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Cussing, cigarettes, sex, alcohol, mild violence.

A sigh escaped his lips. Pressing his palms against the ice-cold railing of his balcony, he glanced longingly at the dark skies above him. He tried desperately to find the slightest hint of brightness interspersed in the heavily-clouded sky, but all he could make out was the city lights polluting the once star-studded space above.  
  
Dejected, he fell back into the armchair behind him, observing the blood-red liquid swirling about in the glass in his hand instead. He took a large gulp of the wine, allowing the drunken stupor to take over his consciousness and sanity once more.  
  
When was the last time he saw a single star again?

-

-

  
  
  


Chanyeol exchanged a furtive glance with his band mate who was on the drums, as they have done at least a thousand times before prior to this, and grinned at the man who picked up on his hint well enough. The clacking of drum sticks against each other soon sounds, and the room was promptly filled with loud music and cheers from the crowd. Chanyeol loses himself in it all.  
  
It was no secret that Chanyeol enjoys this tremendously – the incandescent stage lights, the music, the  _attention_.  
  
It was as though he was  _born_  to live in the limelight, even though he was the only person in his family to possess that musical gene. None of his family even  _liked_  music, much less the noisy ones that Chanyeol indulged himself in. Performing since the tender age of fourteen, Chanyeol went on to establish a name for himself as one of the most prodigious guitarists in the scene. Together with his band mates, they were the hottest bands underground, getting called to bar after bar for performances. But they made the bar called EXO as their home base, because they simply enjoyed the atmosphere.  
  
Needless to say, they raked in the money and the gifts and the free alcohol night after night. The drummer, who was the oldest of the lot, used to get the girls too when they were younger – what he did with them  _after_ , Chanyeol didn’t want to know. No one really cared that half the members were minors. None of them looked their age anyway.   
  
Then the younger members of the band grew into fine, good-looking young men dripping with sexy charisma, and the rest was history. Girls, alcohol, and cigarettes practically became their best friends when there were no concerns about getting themselves thrown into jail, though Chanyeol had a nagging suspicion that the bassist, Jungmo, did drugs too. He was stoned half the time, but Chanyeol couldn’t really bring himself to give a shit. What his band members did out of their practising studio (though they seemed to practice together much less, now that they have carved their own brand of fame for themselves) and performances was none of his concern, as long as they got their shit together while on stage.  
  
It had been six years down the line, but tonight was no different. The moment the band got off the stage, they were swarmed by countless skimpily dressed girls who rubbed themselves against Chanyeol and his band members, all wanting a piece of them. Chanyeol, who has grown into a decent height of 6-feet over the years, found himself getting groped in the ass by one of them as he made his way towards the bar. He irately shoved her away, pretending that he had lost his balance (well, it  _was_  common knowledge that he was clumsy enough most of the time), and felt the vocalist’s eyes trained on him.  
  
True enough, he turned to his left and finds Kyungsoo flashing a knowing grin at him. “What?” Chanyeol spluttered as he removed some suspicious packet that had just been stuffed into the pocket of his leather jacket, discarding it on the floor behind them.  _Fucking drug pushers._  
  
“Nothing.” Kyungsoo answered innocently, turning his attention on the path ahead of them again. “Just thought that you would at least  _pretend_  to be interested in women is all.”  
  
“The fuck is that supposed to mean, you dick? I  _do_  like women.” Chanyeol scowled at the smaller man, who is a couple of months younger than he was as they took a seat at the bar counter. The crowd fizzled out by then, because Chanyeol and Kyungsoo simply weren’t paying any attention to them. They weren’t the type to indulge in the attention lavished on them off-stage; not very frequently, at least. “I just don’t like it when people forcefully attempt to invade my private bubble. You know that.”  
  
“Hmm.” The vocalist gave a noncommittal hum. He waved towards their bassist and drummer – Jungmo and Heechul – who made off with several girls hanging off of their arms, knowing full well that at least  _some_  of them would be getting laid by the end of the night, pouting when his geniality was flat out ignored by the pair. “For the amount of times that I’ve actually seen you talking to a woman, I wouldn’t have the slightest hint of suspicion that you  _might_  be gay. Nope. You and I both know the truth.” He then quipped sarcastically, though it earned Kyungsoo a cuff at the back of his head, courtesy of Chanyeol.  
  
“Shut up,” Chanyeol growled as he downed the mug of beer in front of him. “I’d like to think that I have high standards for women.”  
  
“Or men.” Kyungsoo snickered into his palm. He lighted a cigarette and took a deep drag of it, blowing the smoke into the air around him before he turned back to meet Chanyeol’s gaze. “Seriously, even  _I_  have dated someone from the opposite gender.  _You_ , on the other hand…”  
  
Chanyeol rolled his eyes at Kyungsoo, raising his arms to indicate that he was having none of this discussion. “Kyungsoo, seriously. Do we  _have_  to go through this every single freaking time? Because even if you’re not sick of it,  _I_ am.” He sighed in desperation.  
  
“Chanyeol, would you listen to me for once?” The younger man said in full seriousness that makes Chanyeol sit up in attention. There weren’t many occasions when Kyungsoo would show the actual side of himself (he liked to pretend that he was the joker, just to get the party going, but Chanyeol wasn’t fooled by that façade), and on such occasions, Chanyeol made it a point to face him with equal intent.  
  
“Okay, I’m listening.”  
  
“Good. So look, it’s been what? Two years since you and Kr– Hey, where the hell are you going? I’m not even done yet!” Kyungsoo nodded firmly, only to yell out in surprise when Chanyeol abruptly left his seat and made his way through the crowd.  
  
Chanyeol stopped in his steps and ran a hand through his spiked hair in frustration. “Kyungsoo, I love you and all –  _not_ in _that_  manner, goddamnit! – but you push that topic  _one_  more time, and I swear I’ll punch your face in without any regrets, okay?” Kyungsoo’s arms immediately shot up into the air in a silent promise that he wasn’t going to push the topic any longer – at least not for tonight.  
  
After Chanyeol made sure that his friend managed to understand his point, he flashed a tight-lipped smile at him before making his way out of the bar.  _Fun’s over for tonight,_  he thought dryly to himself.  
  
And then someone who brushed past him as he exited the bar catches Chanyeol’s attention. From his peripheral vision, he noticed thick eyeliner, pale skin, and slightly pouty lips on the smaller man, who was dressed in a studded leather jacket and looking absolutely stunning. When Chanyeol turned around in search of the person, he was no longer anywhere in sight.  
  
Chanyeol frowned to himself, thinking that he had had too much to drink for the night, and stumbled out of the bar like any drunkards do, hoping that he’ll find his way back home in one piece.

†

  
  
  


"Have you heard?” Kyungsoo slid into the empty seat next to Chanyeol’s, who was drinking himself stupid after another successful performance at the bar. Heechul and Jungmo were, as usual, nowhere to be seen, though Kyungsoo had a feeling that they were on their way to some cheap hotel or something. Nothing new there.  
  
“Heard what?” Chanyeol mumbled through his drunken state, opening a half-lidded eye to take a look at the person who was probably his only friend in the scene. Over the years of mingling around, Chanyeol had learned not to trust every single person who came up to him with a smile and the promise of alcohol. Only Kyungsoo had been truthful enough for Chanyeol to keep him close.  
  
“There’s a new band going around, it seems.” Kyungsoo commented thoughtfully, chucking several peanuts into his mouth before washing them down with a shot of vodka.  
  
“And…?”  
  
“They’re good,” came the short reply, and Chanyeol found himself slightly more sober than before.  
  
“You’ve heard them play?” Kyungsoo laughed at the question and answered with a nonchalant  _“no”_. Chanyeol swore he would strangle Kyungsoo if his fuse were any shorter than this. But it wasn’t, and he was too pissed drunk to even care much. “So how did you find out that they’re actually  _good_?” Chanyeol found himself scowling at Kyungsoo.  
  
It wasn’t pride, he maintained; Chanyeol was just naturally sceptical about any and every band that was deemed  _‘good’_. There were two simple reasons behind that. One;  _his_  band was  _the_  best in the scene, and no one ever came close. Two; based on experience, any claims that a band was decent enough to challenge Third Gate for the reign on top, so far, were just stupid shit their rivals stirred up to make them feel insecure. Which rarely –  _never_  ever happened.  
  
Their position in the underground band scene was unshakable.  
  
“Hearsay,” Kyungsoo shrugged, an infuriating smirk playing on his lips. He knew Chanyeol hated things based off ‘hearsay’, but he couldn’t resist getting on his nerves. As expected, Chanyeol scoffed at him and proceeded to plant his face on the wooden surface of the counter, still too intoxicated to really care about what was going on in the club. “By the way,” the younger man started again. “They’re up next.”  
  
“Who is?” Chanyeol found himself asking, though his question was answered moments later when the owner of EXO, Park Jungsoo, spoke into the microphone and introduced an up-and-coming band called… Chanyeol couldn’t be bothered to remember their name because he was banking on them disappearing completely several months down the line.  
  
Except, they didn’t, and Chanyeol’s eyes were transfixed on the lead singer the entire time.  
  
Chanyeol later learned that they were called Storm.

†

  
  
  


The foul mood would find Chanyeol whenever he could not perform on stage, which would always lead him to drink even more than he usually would. This night was no different. Jungmo apparently had ‘personal engagements’ to attend to, and they couldn’t perform without a bassist. No one else were familiar with Third Gate’s sheet music, and neither could anyone just step in and emulate their perfect harmonisation on the instruments. Their tacit understanding came from years of practising and going through the hardships of being a new, unknown band together. It was only after years of toiling that they had managed to carve a name for themselves as one of the legends in the underground band scene, hence why a certain amount of pride came with that.  
  
But Chanyeol didn’t approve of them missing their stages together, even if he wasn’t the leader of their band. Heechul left no room for him to protest, and drinking was the only way Chanyeol knew how to channel his frustrations. The others didn’t seem to care much whether they could perform.  
  
“I finally found you! Where have you been all night?!” Kyungsoo’s voice filtered through the music and Chanyeol’s alcohol-hazed brain, pulling the older man’s attention towards him. Chanyeol audibly groaned when he found Kyungsoo’s disapproving glare training down at him.  
  
“I’ve been here ever since I stepped into the bar, Kyungsoo. What are you talking about?” He mumbled sleepily. “The better question would be: did you even bother searching properly?”  
  
“You know that’s not what I mean, Chanyeol. And hell, are you trying to give yourself early liver cirrhosis or something?” His eyes swept across the amount of beer bottles in front of Chanyeol in disbelief, then back at the man who was in the midst of finishing up yet another bottle. He sighed and decided a little violence was due.  
  
Chanyeol irately shrugged Kyungsoo’s hand off his shoulder when the younger man pressed down a little  _too_  hard on it, turning around to glare at his friend. “What  _is_  your problem, Do Kyungsoo? Can’t you fucking leave a guy to drink in peace for once?”  
  
Kyungsoo shrugged and all-too-happily ignored his remark and occupied his usual seat next to Chanyeol, calling for a shot of Vodka, keeping himself silent since Chanyeol was evidently in a snappy mood. He then supported his chin with his palm, and  _stared_  at Chanyeol until the guitarist felt an eerie shudder run down the length of his spine. “Thanks for paying attention to me for once, Chanyeol.” He laughed when Chanyeol turned towards him again.  
  
“What are you talking about?” Chanyeol snorted and rolled his eyes at Kyungsoo. “I  _always_  pay attention to you what you have to say.”  
  
“No you don’t.” Kyungsoo’s smile promptly turned into a frown. “Especially not lately.”  
  
“ _Because_ ,” Chanyeol began exasperatedly. “All you talk about these days is that vocalist of Storm, whatever the fuck his name is, whom I have absolutely no interest in. If you want to fuck him, then  _go talk to him already_.”  
  
The taller one of the pair growled when Kyungsoo aimed a painful slap to the back of his head. “See, you  _definitely_  weren’t paying attention. So here’s the deal. One, his name is Byun Baekhyun; two, I don’t have any intentions to fuck him, as you so crudely put it,” Kyungsoo enumerated (Chanyeol again snorted and commented, “As if you’re such a clean-mouthed boy.”) as he sipped on his Vodka, then swallowing it rather noisily. “And three, I  _am_  talking to him. I told you just yesterday.”  
  
“Oh.” Chanyeol mock-blinked. “Don’t know, don’t care.”  
  
“Then would you care to know that he’s been asking about you?  _A lot_?” Kyungsoo tested. His full lips drew up into a barely-concealed smirk when the tip of Chanyeol’s ear twitched in response. Chanyeol’s poker face wasn’t going to fool him.  
  
“If you’re trying to pull my leg, then fuck off. It’s not working.” The guitarist scowled at him. He shuddered a little when he recalled the attractive, eyeliner-painted eyes staring up at him from the table up front during each and every one of Third Gate’s performances, and he quickly shook the thoughts away. Chanyeol was perfectly contented to believe that the vocalist from the rival band was watching  _Kyungsoo_  instead – they were both singers; it was only normal for him to observe Kyungsoo.  
  
And then the paranoia of Storm thinking about overthrowing Third Gate as the best underground band seeped into Chanyeol’s thoughts once again. He shrugged it away with much difficulty. Third Gate was –  _is_  – the best;  _no one came close_ , he chanted to himself to pacify the raising uneasiness.  
  
He hated how his intuition was rarely ever wrong.  
  
Kyungsoo shrugged nonchalantly at his friend as he slid off the bar stool, patting Chanyeol almost sympathetically on the back, which confused the taller man.  “You have no idea, Chanyeol. You have no idea.” He muttered cryptically before disappearing into the crowd, leaving the guitarist staring in a clueless manner after him.

†

  
  
  


He found himself coming face to face with the vocalist of Storm weeks after he had seen them perform on stage. Byun Baekhyun looked exactly the same as how Chanyeol had first seen him – all thick eyeliner and pouty lips and pale skin. But now that they were much closer than the distance that set them apart on stage and in the pool of audience, Chanyeol noticed a lot more about the vocalist, with his beautiful, slender fingers which could put girls to shame; the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he spoke; the faint scent of his cologne, intermixed with the alcohol and cigarette smoke lingering in the air.  
  
It made Chanyeol feel intoxicated, faint, but he thought it might be attributable to the alcohol in his system.  
  
An impatient  _he’s always this rude, spacing off in the middle of conversations_  came from his right, before an elbow dug deep into his side, immediately pulling Chanyeol out of his inner mind and making him yelp in pain. Chanyeol threw a particularly murderous glare at his attacker – who else but Do Kyungsoo? – and rubbed the injured part of his body rather grudgingly. “What was that for, you fucking sadist? I’m not into your sexual quirks, okay?” He practically growled at his friend, whom merely sent him a thin-lipped smile.  
  
“I wouldn’t have resorted to doing that if you would just pay attention for once. Jesus.” Kyungsoo replied curtly, his words piercing. He then pulled Chanyeol close to him and muttered in his ear, jabbing furiously under the table in the direction of the person seated right across them. “In case you haven’t noticed, we have company.”  
  
Chanyeol glanced upwards, met the eyeliner-rimmed brown eyes of Byun Baekhyun, and felt his mind go blank again.  _“Uh”_ was about the only thing he could muster. Kyungsoo slapped an open palm against his own face at how impossibly articulate his friend was.    
  
“Hi? I’m Baekhyun. I introduced myself earlier but your attention seemed to have been invested somewhere else…” The lead vocalist of Storm spoke up then. Chanyeol noted that his conversational voice sounded somewhat different from that powerful, husky voice he exhibits on stage; it had a gentler tone to it, but Chanyeol decidedly liked it too.  
  
“Oh –  _uh_ – I’m. I’m Chanyeol.” Chanyeol spluttered when Kyungsoo nudged him in the side for the second time that night, realising that his mind had wandered off again.  
  
The tip of his rather prominent ears turned a rather deep shade of red when Baekhyun laughed at the scene, and Chanyeol quickly smoothed his spiked hair down to cover them up. When it only served to make Baekhyun (and this time, Kyungsoo as well, who snorted disgustingly in laughter while commenting how stupid Chanyeol appeared with his hair sticking up at awkward angles) chortle even harder, the guitarist of Third Gate wondered in woe where he should hide to nurse his wounded pride.  
  
He decided that his inattention and multiple successful attempts at embarrassing himself were because he has had  _way_ too much to drink for one night.  
  
Kyungsoo later cheerfully pointed out that Chanyeol had only downed two mugs of beer since Baekhyun joined them at the table; the minimum of drinks Chanyeol would have per night is ten before he would even show a semblance of actually being drunk. Chanyeol aimed a cuff at the back of the younger man’s head none-too-gently to shut him up, but that didn’t stop Kyungsoo’s obnoxiously loud laughter.

†

  
  
  


Many people have hailed Chanyeol as a prodigious guitarist over the years that he had been in the underground music scene, especially after finding out that he had picked up the instrument on his own and played by ear most of the time. But getting praised by Baekhyun was an entirely different feeling, though Chanyeol had no idea why. That happened five conversations in.  
  
They hung out more often after both Third Gate’s and Storm’s stages have ended, courtesy of Kyungsoo who seemed to  _love_ dragging Baekhyun along from the latter’s seat in front of the stage to the bar counter where Chanyeol’s and Kyungsoo’s names might as well be stamped permanently there for the sheer amount of times they had occupied them. (That didn’t matter; patrons who frequented EXO steered clear of those two high seats because they were practically reserved for the pair from Third Gate anyway.)  
  
Kyungsoo also seemed to love sneaking off in the middle of the conversation with the pretence that he saw someone he recognised in the crowd and wanted to extend his greetings to them. He always weaselled away from Chanyeol and Baekhyun, and never came back.  
  
By the third time, Chanyeol wanted nothing else but to throttle Kyungsoo silly and perhaps to murder him. By the tenth consecutive night he was left alone with Baekhyun, Chanyeol gave up and attempted to make some light conversation, beginning with ‘ _want a cigarette?’_  because he had never seen Baekhyun touch a single stick before while he and Kyungsoo would drain the entire packet in half an hour.  
  
To his surprise, Baekhyun shook his head with an amiable smile that knocked Chanyeol off his feet, his eyes turning into attractive crescents. “No thanks, I don’t smoke. I have to preserve my voice box.”  
  
“You should tell that to Kyungsoo. He smokes like a fucking chimney.” Chanyeol scoffed a little, then he caught sight of the orange juice in Baekhyun’s hand for the first time that night. The guitarist’s eyes narrowed oddly at the sight.  _Who the hell drinks_ orange juice _in a bar anyway?_  “Do you… want to get something else to drink?”  
  
Baekhyun appeared confused for a moment, before his eyes widened in understanding. “Oh, no! No. I’m fine. I don’t drink.”  
  
“You don’t drink?” Chanyeol frowned at him. He knew certain people didn’t take cigarettes, so he wasn’t as astonished. But _alcohol_ … With Baekhyun’s rocker attitude and thick makeup, one would think that he would indulge in the substance. Apparently, Chanyeol thought wrong – that, or Baekhyun was plain weird.  
  
“I mean I do! But–” Baekhyun spluttered when he noticed the odd looks Chanyeol was shooting at him.  
  
“But?”  
  
“I don’t drink  _beer_  or  _cocktails_ , if that makes any sense.” The way Baekhyun’s face contorted into a grimace made Chanyeol feel slightly offended; it seemed that for Baekhyun, those two things were poison to the body. (They probably were, but Chanyeol loved them so he wasn’t going to take that sitting down.)  
  
“I’m sorry I happen to enjoy them then,” Chanyeol replied mockingly, and promptly slung his guitar case over his shoulder, before storming out of the bar.  
  
All he could hear was Baekhyun calling after him, yelling ‘Wait,  _I can explain!’_  over the noise of the crowd. Chanyeol couldn’t be bothered to listen.  

†

  
  
  
  


Chanyeol flipped his hair out of his eyes and turned to his right when someone’s soft fingers wrapped around his elbow the moment he stepped off the stage, thinking that some woman was trying to hit on him again. He reeled around in surprise when he found a pair of small but bright eyes staring up at him in a silent plead, beseeching him to  _please, just stop and listen._  
  
It took Chanyeol several confused moments of plain staring at the other man before he realised that he was none other than Byun Baekhyun,  _sans_  the characteristic eyeliner which had seemed to be permanently inked around his eyes. That only served to make Baekhyun appear…  _cuter_ , if Chanyeol dared to say it out loud. But he didn’t, and opted to raise an eyebrow at the shorter boy in question instead.  
  
Baekhyun seemed to have taken the hint, because he muttered something incoherent before shaking his head when he realised that he wasn’t making any sense. He sucked in a deep breath, then looked at Chanyeol in the eye again. “About that day; you misconstrued what I was trying to say.”  
  
“Regarding the alcohol?” Chanyeol prompted, tone a little too curt for his own liking. He wasn’t hung over that stupid incident. Nope, he wasn’t.  
  
The shorter boy worried on his lower lip as he took in their surroundings. His eyes narrowed in slight distaste at what he saw, whatever it was. “Yes, but this isn’t a good place to discuss about that. Do you care to go somewhere else with me?” Baekhyun hedged when he chanced another look at Chanyeol.  
  
Chanyeol scowled at him. “Of course I min–”  
  
Kyungsoo, who had been watching their exchange all this while, not-so-discreetly kicked Chanyeol in the shin and interrupted him mid-sentence. The vocalist smiled innocently when he met Chanyeol’s glare, though the look in Kyungsoo’s eyes unmistakably said:  _Reject his request and I’ll make sure your life is as miserable as it can get._  
  
Kyungsoo is the devil, Chanyeol had maintained time and again, but no one seemed to believe in him. He had no idea why he gave in to Kyungsoo’s threat, but he did, in the end, agree with a noisy sigh and a begrudged “Fine, where do you have in mind?”  
  
With an all-too-cheery  _“Great!”_ , a suddenly overenthusiastic Byun Baekhyun began dragging Chanyeol out of the bar without any further explanation. The guitarist threw a backward glance at Kyungsoo in a silent plead for Kyungsoo to save him from this lunatic of a rival, but all Kyungsoo did was to smile and wave at him, mouthing what Chanyeol made out to be _enjoy the date and don’t come home until you’re done fucking him thoroughly_.  
  
Fucking traitor.

†

  
  
  


Twenty minutes later, Chanyeol was seated in the too-bright interior of a train with a massive, deadly scowl on his face, of which Baekhyun seemed to have either turned a blind eye to, or simply didn’t notice.  He banked on the former as true, because the other people in the train appeared to be avoiding their section at all costs – which was fine for Chanyeol, really.   
  
“Hey, Byun Baekhyun, where the hell are we going?” Chanyeol practically growled at the shorter man, feeling the annoyance build up in him as the moments passed. Not having any alcohol in his system made Chanyeol feel extremely edgy. He wouldn’t be surprised if he lost it and strangled Baekhyun silly within the next minute or so.  
  
When Baekhyun replied with a nonchalant  _“truthfully, I have no idea either”_ , Chanyeol swore to God that he would skin Byun Baekhyun alive before the night was over. He took in deep, regulated breaths to calm himself down, telling himself that committing murder on the train in public view was a frowned-upon act, that no, the deed must only be done when they were alone.  
  
Chanyeol barely managed to put a rein on his emotions when his eyes flickered in Baekhyun’s direction once again. That was when he realised Baekhyun was actually  _kneeling_  on the plastic seat of the train, staring out at the nightscape of Seoul like a curious child would, transfixed by the city lights that fleeted past in a blur. The scene was so drastically different from Baekhyun’s smouldering charisma (not that Chanyeol had been staring, no) on stage that it confused Chanyeol immensely.  
  
This side of Baekhyun in the train was childlike, innocent, almost untainted by the worldly troubles; it made Chanyeol  _want_ to reach out and offer his protection, even if Chanyeol might be one of the most tainted persons around.  
  
“Byun Baekhyun, stop being such an embarrassment.” Chanyeol snapped half-heartedly, the last of his annoyance dissolving into nothingness. He tugged on the sleeve of Baekhyun’s hoodie, suddenly feeling like he was the parent to a disobedient child; yet he was sure Kyungsoo had mentioned somewhere that Baekhyun was older than Chanyeol by several months.  _What is this travesty?_  
  
“ _Sit down properly_ , would you? You’re acting like you haven’t been on the subway before.” He practically hissed when Baekhyun ignored him yet again. The next thing that left Baekhyun’s lips was so full of honesty that Chanyeol was left speechless.  
  
“I haven’t. It’s my first time on a train, so I have no idea where we should alight.”  
  
All Chanyeol could do was  _stare_   _incredulously_  at this man in front of him. “Twenty three years of existence, and you’ve never taken a train before?!” He fairly exclaimed. “Are you for real, or are you just being a fucking troll?”  
  
The questioning look reflected in Baekhyun’s widened eyes told Chanyeol he wasn’t lying, and Chanyeol had to stop himself from sighing. “It… really  _is_  odd, huh.” Baekhyun managed a dry chuckle, suddenly deflating as he slid back into his seat.  
  
Chanyeol frowned. “When you think about it, it’s difficult for me to believe in that, Baekhyun. How is it possible that you’ve never been on a train prior to this?”  
  
“But it is.” Baekhyun maintained earnestly. “For all my life, I’ve been chauffeured around in cars, with every movement of mine kept under tight supervision, controlled, manipulated. If you think it’s easy for me to walk around like this, then you’re horribly wrong, Chanyeol.”  
  
A low, disbelieving laugh rumbled in Chanyeol’s chest at Baekhyun’s words. “You’re talking as though you’re some hot shot rich ass kid who has all the money in the world but not the freedom. Are you sure you’re not living in some kind of  _manhwa_ fantasy world or something?”  
  
That tight-lipped smile Baekhyun sent in Chanyeol’s direction effectively shut him up for the umpteenth time that night.  _It’s not a joke_  was the message Chanyeol received from it, and that night, Chanyeol was forcefully thrust into Baekhyun’s world, despite all resistance he put up against it.

†

  
  
  


Being in a rock band was akin to a double life for Baekhyun, as Chanyeol had slowly learned over the weeks he spent with the older man. In the day, Baekhyun lived his life as a normal university-going student, hidden behind thick-rimmed glasses (complete with fake lenses) and baggy sweatshirts as he tried to keep his grades afloat. Chanyeol’s jaw nearly dropped when he learned that Baekhyun was a Law student, of all things, and he swore he had identified the wrong person when Baekhyun walked out of his campus one day and approached Chanyeol on his own accord when he found the taller male waiting for him.  
  
Baekhyun definitely did not take the term ‘double life’ lightly; he was practically unrecognisable.  
  
(And no, Chanyeol did not deliberately wait for Baekhyun’s classes to end. He happened to be in the area where Baekhyun’s university was situated at.)  
  
On most days, they talked about the oppression, the vexation, the frustration that Baekhyun has to live through on a daily basis. His parents pushed him to excel at everything, just as his older brother did, and even tried to force him into medical school. Baekhyun fought and argued with them, before barely coming to a compromise with them that he would do Law instead.  
  
But what Baekhyun truly wanted to do was to dabble in Music. It definitely made Chanyeol’s parents’ objections to his band activities pale in comparison. At least they left Chanyeol alone when they were sick and tired of telling him off and nagging away at his ears.  
  
Perhaps that was the defining difference between Chanyeol and Baekhyun. Chanyeol was rebellious and couldn’t give a flying fuck about what the others thought of him. Baekhyun was as docile as he could get, only allowing a different side of him to surface on the few nights Storm could spare to perform on stage. Singing was his only venting outlet then; Chanyeol rapidly became another.  
  
On one other day, Chanyeol accidentally points out the glaring fact (which, no doubt, Baekhyun had been trying hard to conceal) about Baekhyun’s double personality and how good he was at hiding it. Chanyeol swore he has  _never_  allowed his heart to soften so much before, but the words that leave Baekhyun’s pouty, gloss-free lips picked at the walls Chanyeol had built up around his heart over the years, breaking it apart syllable by syllable.  
  
“When you get pushed into a corner with nowhere to run, with no choice but to bow down to orders and stick to everything someone else tells you to do, you eventually become good at hiding what you truly feel inside. The anguish, the frustration, the sadness, the uncertainty mixed into one entity, throwing you deeper into the throes of despair. The conflicting emotions of relief when a sliver of hope for you to break free and make your escape appears, only to be afraid of reaching out for it because you know you’ll be chained even more tightly than before if you get caught. Repressing these feelings eventually moulds one into a great actor,” he had said, with well-restrained tears and calm, even voice that betrayed his true emotions; it only came from years of practice, Chanyeol was sure.  
  
Chanyeol couldn’t even stop himself from pulling Baekhyun into an embrace, even if his mind kept on telling him that he would end up regretting the lack of distance between them. He shoved his intuition away and locked it up in the deepest recesses of his mind (or heart), refusing to listen to any of that bullshit it was spewing.  
  
In retrospect, he would come to regret this.

†

  
  
  


“Oh, this is a pleasant surprise. I wasn’t expecting to find you here.” Kyungsoo stuffed his face in Chanyeol’s line of sight, complete with the perpetually bulging eyes and creepy smile he knew would get onto Chanyeol’s nerves. The guitarist jumped slightly in his seat at the sudden intrusion into his private bubble, and unceremoniously pushed Kyungsoo’s face away, contorting the younger boy’s facial features as he did so. Kyungsoo made an indignant noise at that.  
  
“Are you sure you’re my friend, because this has been my permanent seat ever since three years ago, in case you’ve contracted amnesia from God-knows-where.” Chanyeol turned around in his seat with a mirthless expression, deadpanning at Kyungsoo.  
  
Kyungsoo scoffed at him. “Yeah, says the person who has been going on frequent disappearing acts for the past two months or so. You’ve been getting it on with Baekhyun, huh?” The smirk playing on Kyungsoo’s lips was unmistakable. It grew even wider when Chanyeol choked on his drink at the comment.  
  
“ _Fuck you_ ,” Chanyeol growled and shoved Kyungsoo hard, nearly making the other man fall off his barstool. Kyungsoo managed to save himself from the disgrace by clutching tightly onto the edge of the tabletop. “We’re just friends, nothing more, nothing less. Stop saying nonsense; I don’t want other people to misunderstand.”  
  
“Are you afraid of letting people know you swing the other way–” Kyungsoo began with a more serious intonation, voice slightly challenging. He knew Chanyeol wouldn’t back down from a challenge, and it was pretty much the only way he could force some answers out of the guitarist. “–or have you not come to terms with your own feelings?”  
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Chanyeol murmured, rolling his eyes at Kyungsoo as he sipped on his cocktail. Kyungsoo raised an eyebrow at his drink; Chanyeol had  _refused_  to consume cocktails because it reminded him a lot of a certain someone, and because it made him drunk that much faster due to the various concoctions.  
  
“I thought you swore yourself off cocktail.” Kyungsoo hedged, sight flickering back to observe the changes in Chanyeol’s expressions. The taller man seemed to be much more in control of his emotions now; he used to wear his feelings on his sleeves, and could be read like an open book. Kyungsoo bristled in frustration when he could not decipher Chanyeol’s thoughts when he spoke up.  
  
“It’s none of your business, Kyungsoo. This will be the last time I’m telling you this: there is nothing going on between Baekhyun and I. Quit looking too much into things.”  
  
Kyungsoo watched in silence as Chanyeol made his way to another more secluded section of the EXO Bar, hoping that there was indeed nothing wrong with his friend. He didn’t like the uneasiness that formed in the pit of his stomach. Something was bound to happen.

†

  
  
  


“There are perks to being a trustworthy son, I must say. Besides, I made my parents promise to not send anyone after me on my trips out, if I were to give in to their request of studying Law.” Baekhyun laughed as he and Chanyeol pushed past the doors of EXO, entering their usual performance joint. They were on the subject of Baekhyun miraculously being able to sneak several nights out to perform at the bar, what with the restrictions his parents had imposed on him. It turned out that Baekhyun had lied to his parents, telling them that he had study sessions to attend in preparation for his graduation exams.  
  
“Wait till they find out what you’ve been up to…” Chanyeol chuckled and shook his head in amusement. Baekhyun was quite the rebellious child if he set his mind to it.  
  
“Except they won’t–” Baekhyun disagreed, only to do a double take when he finally realised how crowded the bar was that night. It was filled to the brim and much noisier than the nights when Third Gate and Storm would perform on. “Whoa, what the hell is going on in here?”  
  
Chanyeol raised his eyebrows at the sight as well. He grabbed hold of one of the waiters called Taemin who was passing them by. “Hey, Taem, the fuck’s happening tonight? Is Jungsoo hyung throwing some sort of surprise party here or something?”  
  
“No, sorry to disappoint, but Jungsoo hyung isn’t here today. There’s a celebrity around, though, it seems.” Taemin informed, to which Chanyeol displayed a confused expression.  
  
“A celebrity? What brings a celebrity to EXO?”  
  
Taemin shrugged, indicating that he had no idea either. EXO wasn’t exactly the most upscale bar in Hongdae, and as such, celebrity sightings were rare. “If you’d like to find out, though, just look for the area where the girls are ogling at. I heard the dude’s hot.” The waiter added with a wink then went on his way.  
  
Chanyeol and Baekhyun met an obstacle in the form of Do Kyungsoo, who was all eye smiles and loud voice as they neared the congregated crowd. “Ah, I see you lovebirds together again!” He greeted, leaving Baekhyun rosy-cheeked and Chanyeol choking on his own spit at the term.  
  
“Kyungsoo….” Chanyeol growled in warning when he managed to get a grip of himself.  
  
Said man raised his arms in defence. “Okay, stopping. No need to get your feathers ruffled now.” He quipped, then slung an arm around Baekhyun’s and Chanyeol’s (with much difficulty because of the sheer difference in height) shoulders before he began dragging them  _away_  from the crowd.  Baekhyun and Chanyeol shared a look.  
  
“Kyungsoo, hands off. In case you haven’t noticed, we were trying to check out what’s going on over there.” The guitarist rolled his eyes at his friend, trying hard to shrug Kyungsoo off. The other man had a death grip around his shoulders.  
  
Kyungsoo was relentless. “It’s just another of those idols who dance to the ever so disgusting bubble pop genre. Nothing you would be interested in, I’m sure.” He said, swallowing convulsively when Chanyeol glared at him.  
  
“You’re lying” were the only two words needed to make Kyungsoo’s hold around Baekhyun and Chanyeol slacken. Over the years, Chanyeol knew Kyungsoo way too well to be able to identify when the younger man wasn’t telling the truth. This was one of those incidents.  
  
“Chanyeol,  _please_ , don’t go there. It’s really not worth it.” Kyungsoo pleaded, the hint of desperation in his voice going unnoticed by the guitarist.  
  
Baekhyun remained silent throughout their exchange, not knowing what he could say about the situation. He didn’t understand when Kyungsoo sent him a look that screamed  _help me change his mind,_  either.  
  
Chanyeol, on the other hand, laughed Kyungsoo’s warning off as he made his way towards the private rooms. “Quit being ridiculous, Kyungsoo. Taking a peek wouldn’t possibly hurt that much, would it?”  
  
Except, Chanyeol learned a little too late, that certain things  _do_  hurt  _pretty fucking bad_.

 

†

Two men sat on the plush satin seats of the private room as they quietly stared at the glass-topped table which separated them both. The tension and resentment and so many words waiting to be spilled, anger waiting to be vented hung in the silent air of the room, and at least one of them was suffocating from the stillness of it all; Chanyeol knew he did.  
  
Two years. He thought he would’ve been over it all, but apparently he isn’t. Seeing the perfectly sculpted face of the man currently seated across him coming into plain view, walking ever so casually into the open space of the bar earlier and  _smirking_  at him, that bastard, still managed to knock the wind out of Chanyeol’s lungs.  
  
He hated that. He hated the man. Above all, he hated  _himself_  for letting himself get this affected by the man’s mere presence.  
  
“The last I remembered, you were much better than this on the guitar.” The other man’s deep, compelling voice, not without a slight Chinese accent, dragged Chanyeol out of his thoughts, against the guitarist’s own will. He winced at the mention of it, recalling the amount of mistakes he had committed during Third Gate’s stage half an hour ago.  
  
Kyungsoo had watched him with sympathy as he belted the words to their song, but Jungmo and Heechul were downright furious with Chanyeol by the time they blended into the crowd. The pair even accused him of ruining Third Gate’s reputation with his blunder; words which Chanyeol couldn’t even retort against because it was true on all accounts.  
  
And then there was Baekhyun, glancing up at Chanyeol with a look full of concern throughout his performance, lips pressed into a thin line.  
  
Chanyeol blinked that image of Baekhyun away. He wasn’t about to admit to the other man that his performance was affected because of his presence. He had to tell himself repeatedly that he should keep his emotions his check, that he shouldn’t give the man the satisfaction of seeing his pitiful self (even if his performance on stage gave everything away), that it wasn’t worth it for him to injure his knuckles from throwing a punch at the man’s sorry excuse for a face, as attractive as it may be. Then he did a double take at that thought;  _maybe_  he would benefit from a punch after all.  
  
“What are you doing here, Kris?” Chanyeol stated evenly as he pushed his plans of  _actually_  hurting Kris to the back of his mind. “Aren’t you too good for EXO ever since attaining your celebrity status?” There was a mocking tone in Chanyeol’s voice; one which he knew would strike a nerve in Kris.  
  
True enough, Kris narrowed his eyes ever so subtly; Chanyeol would’ve missed it in the darkness of the room, had he not observed Kris closely. “I just felt a semblance of nostalgia today, I guess.” He shrugged with nonchalance, and it irked Chanyeol to no end. In fact, every word, every action of Kris’ seemed to grate his nerves. “It’s not a crime to pay a visit to my old haunt, is it now?”  
  
Chanyeol inhaled deeply and faced Kris squarely. “No, but you’re causing the bar and its serious patrons a lot of trouble by drawing such a huge crowd here.” His eyes flickered towards the tinted windows, where a large number of girls were still trying to catch a glimpse of the up-and-rising actor in his presence. Chanyeol was suddenly glad that the windows only allowed the occupants of the room to see through them. He didn’t think he’d want to be caught dead in Kris’ presence. Their shared past was suffocating enough.  
  
“Doesn’t this equate to more customers for EXO, though? Do enlighten me on your logic.”  
  
“If they ordered drinks, it  _would_ , but they’re not.” Chanyeol retorted.  
  
“I have no control over somebody else’s free will, Chanyeol.” Kris rolled his eyes at Chanyeol, and the younger man found a retort hanging on the tip of his tongue. He swallowed that, figuring that the less trouble he kicked up (and the less time he spent in Kris’ presence), the better. “Let’s have a change of subject. How have you been?”  
  
Chanyeol doesn’t hold back the incredulous snort at Kris’ question. “Yeah, you take off without saying a word, then come back two years later and expect me to tell you everything without the slightest hesitation? Save your  _kindness_  for someone who actually gives a fuck, Kris.”  
  
“Such a clean-mouthed boy you are.” Kris clicked his tongue disapprovingly, then glanced in the general direction of the bar counter. Chanyeol followed his line of sight despite himself, realising what Kris had his sights set upon.  _Baekhyun._  Kris seemed to have noticed the way Chanyeol’s muscles tensed up, and he threw a lazy smile in Chanyeol’s direction. “So, you’re into petite ones these days, I see. What a drastic change in taste. I’m actually disappointed that you’re choosing  _him_  over  _me_ , Chanyeol.”  
  
That comment made Chanyeol see red, and within seconds, he was fisting the collar of Kris’ expensive-looking shirt, breathing heavily up against Kris’ jaw line. “ _Don’t fuck with me, Kris._ ” He growled, a dangerous gleam dancing in his eyes. He was no longer that naïve Chanyeol from the past, one who would allow others to toy with him as they pleased.  
  
“I was stupid enough for you to fool around with and then be casted aside on your whims and fancies in the past, but don’t think I’ll take this sitting down now. If you try to intrude upon my life and intend to trample all over it again,  _I’m going to make sure you will live to regret it._ ”  
  
With that, Chanyeol pushed past the door, squeezed through the fangirls who were  _still_ crowded around the private room, marched right up to the bar, and dragged Baekhyun along with him without even thinking about what the hell he was doing.

†

 

“Chanyeol… are you okay?” A meek voice came from his right, and Chanyeol turned his head to find Baekhyun staring intently at him, the concern unmistakable in his eyes.  
  
For a moment, Chanyeol’s head swam as he tries to decipher why Baekhyun was next to him, why the smell of damp grass was invading his senses, why there was no roof above them, why they were surrounded by the darkness. Then Chanyeol remembered how he, in a fit of rage after spending a period of time in Kris’ presence, had pulled Baekhyun out of EXO and into a taxi parked by the roadside, nearly scaring the driver half to death because apparently the old man thought that Chanyeol had wanted to rob him.  
  
He later realised that they were lying by the Han River, with the gentle night breeze caressing their skin and the sound of water lapping against the shore in their ears. The calmness of their surroundings was a stark contrast with his inner turmoil, raging and boiling and threatening to spill over.  
  
Chanyeol propped himself up on an elbow, ignoring how the soil beneath him squelched in response. His jacket was going to the wash, anyway. “Yeah, fine. I’m fine.” He breathed, grimacing at how his voice betrayed his denial.  
  
He had hoped that Baekhyun wouldn’t catch on to it, but the older man did. Baekhyun sat up and flicked his forehead – rather painfully, if Chanyeol might add – with a displeased pout. “You’re lying.”  
  
Chanyeol laughed in spite of himself, though it carried a bitter edge rather than amusement. “You saw through me. I guess I really do wear my emotions on my sleeves, huh?”  
  
“Rather than that, I’d say I’m good in deciphering another person’s thoughts.” Baekhyun joked, trying to lighten up the atmosphere, and Chanyeol flashed a tight-lipped smile in thanks.  
  
“I’m sorry I dragged you along without even asking whether you were up to it.” Chanyeol sighed. He vaguely registered the sensation of Baekhyun pressing up against his side, but he welcomed the warmth that radiated off of the other man. The night was cold – his  _heart_  was cold – but Baekhyun’s presence made it all the more bearable.  
  
Baekhyun gently nudged Chanyeol with his shoulder. “What are you talking about, Chanyeol? I did that to you once; it’s only fair for me to return the favour.” Chanyeol replied with a smile that disappeared as soon as it flickered across his features, and they fell into a comfortable silence.  
  
The shorter man’s attention was transfixed on Chanyeol regardless, taking in the way his lashes casted dark shadows over his half-lidded eyes, and his soft bangs that fell across his face, free of the usual hair gel. It made Baekhyun want to reach out and run his fingers through Chanyeol’s hair, just to see how it would feel between his fingers.  
  
When he caught his running thoughts, Baekhyun pretended to cough into his hands and strike up another conversation. “So… what happened back there? You were pretty upset and–” he started, only to chastise himself mentally when he figured out that Chanyeol might not be willing to talk about it. Who was Baekhyun to be privy of Chanyeol’s private life? “Wait, forget it. You can ignore my question if you don’t feel like answering. I was intruding.”  
  
“I used to have a history with Kris.” Chanyeol offered without even sparing a thought, and Baekhyun glanced at him, astonished. “He used to visit EXO close to a daily basis, and was the only person aside from my band members whom I had allowed to truly enter my life. Obviously that was a bad judgement on my side. To cut the long story short, he disappeared on me one fine day, without any explanations or messages.” The guitarist chuckled dryly, and snapped his fingers for extra emphasis. “Just like that.”  
  
“I found out several months later, though, that he was making his big break on the silver screens. I did the most foolish thing I could have ever possibly done during the premiere event; I went in search for him, but what do I get? He pretended as though he didn’t know me, didn’t  _recognise_  me at all.”  
  
Despite himself, Baekhyun frowned and huffed, “He’s a jerk.” Chanyeol laughed and nodded in agreement.  
  
“Yeah, he is, but I guess I’m an idiot too for getting myself all worked up because of him. I should’ve punched him in the face for disappearing on me for two full years, but I  _couldn’t_.”  
  
Chanyeol glanced in Baekhyun’s direction again when the other man’s hand touches his arm. “Chanyeol, stop being too hard on yourself.” Baekhyun said in a voice so soft that Chanyeol swore he would’ve thought he was hallucinating, had he not seen Baekhyun’s lips move.  
  
His heart thumped painfully against his chest wall, not knowing what he should say or do in the face of Baekhyun’s words. There was a part of him that wanted to just crumble into pieces and let his emotions run free from its restraints, and then there was another part that was trying hard to keep the walls up, to maintain the seemingly strong exterior even though he was breaking deep inside.  
  
“I… can’t.” Chanyeol’s answer was vague, but Baekhyun seemed to have understood it perfectly. He surprised Chanyeol by climbing on top of him and straddling Chanyeol’s abdomen, his pretty long fingers lightly fisting the collar of the guitarist’s jacket. The determination in his eyes was strong.  
  
"You’re always telling me to screw what my parents have in store for me and chase after my dreams and be happy, but why can’t you let go of your own past?” Baekhyun’s voice was gentle but firm. “Aren’t you hurting?”  
  
“I’m not.” He lied, promptly averting his gaze. Baekhyun was relentless, however; his fingers wrapped themselves around Chanyeol’s jaw, and pulled Chanyeol back to look at him.  
  
“You are.”  
  
“Baekhyun, I–” Chanyeol started to protest again, only to have his inner state of mind plunged into absolute chaos when he feels Baekhyun’s soft lips against his.

†

 

Chanyeol didn’t know  _how_ , or  _what_  to label the relationship between him and Baekhyun. After the chaste kiss at the Han Riverbank the other night, they were practically joined to the hip. On the surface, they maintained they were  _just friends_ , earning more than the usual teasing from Kyungsoo with the added-on disapproving looks from Jungmo and Heechul, who didn’t seem to like seeing Chanyeol being around Baekhyun. In private, though, Chanyeol and Baekhyun were all quiet whispers, occasional hugs, and more than frequent hand-holding when no one was looking.  
  
He didn’t think the relationship between them would turn out this way, but Chanyeol had to admit, he enjoyed being around Baekhyun – more than he should, perhaps. He felt as though he could truly be himself in Baekhyun’s presence, something which he found was only possible around the Third Gate members (though it was getting more difficult for him to be at ease around Heechul and Jungmo), and previously, Kris. Chanyeol knew that it was dangerous for him to expose his heart and risk for it to get hurt once again, but he wanted to believe perhaps,  _just perhaps_ , things would be different this time.  
  
It was a risk; a chance he was willing to take where Baekhyun was concerned. Chanyeol wasn’t known as a bold risk-taker for nothing.  
  
And so he let himself fall.

†

 

“I don’t understand how one can like something like  _this_.” Chanyeol made a face as he raised the glass in his hand up, scrutinising its blood red content with suspicion. His tone, however, was joking. As if trying to prove his point, Chanyeol stuck the edge of the glass under his nose and took another whiff of it, and made another face as he pulled away.  
  
Baekhyun playfully nudged him in the side, the liquid inside his own glass sloshing around and leaving a reddish trail after its wake on the sides of the glass. “Wine appreciation is an acquired taste, Chanyeol.” He laughed.  
  
“Yeah, says the rich kid who has probably been drinking this all his life.” Chanyeol deadpanned. “I’m all for beer, and God forbid, cocktails. I don’t understand how wine can be classified as an alcoholic substance. It doesn’t even smell like it.” He had told Baekhyun about his aversion towards cocktails because of its association with Kris. Baekhyun was still trying to coax him out of that.  
  
“Take a sip of it  _and then_  tell me your opinions, Yeol.” Baekhyun rolled his eyes at him. “It’s not going to kill you, I swear.”  
  
Chanyeol raised an eyebrow at Baekhyun. “If it does, the full responsibility lies on you.”  
  
“Just drink it, Chanyeol.”  
  
Chanyeol begrudgingly pressed the glass against his lips (because Baekhyun was going to pull ranks with his age soon enough), fully aware of how Baekhyun’s eyes were following his every action. His forehead was scrunched into a slight frown as the cool liquid wets his lips, and he reluctantly gulped it down after allowing its taste to linger on the surface of his tongue.  
  
“How is it?” Baekhyun asked eagerly the moment Chanyeol’s Adam’s apple stopped bobbing.  
  
“Not too bad, I guess.” He admitted once the taste faded. There was a tinge of bitterness that came with the wine, just enough to invade the senses. The trail of warmth that trickled down his throat and settled in the pit of his stomach was oddly assuring, reminding him of the way Baekhyun made him feel whenever the older man was near. He could get used to this, Chanyeol thought.  
  
He glanced in Baekhyun’s direction when he didn’t utter a word, noticing how Baekhyun had a satisfied smile playing on his pouty, gloss-free lips as he leaned against the balcony railing, seemingly searching for something in the clear night skies above. Chanyeol scooted closer to the singer, and nudged him gently with his shoulder. “Are you looking for something?”  
  
Baekhyun’s eyes remained transfixed on the sky. “Stars.” He answered earnestly, a small frown creasing his forehead. “Finding one is difficult these days because of the city lights, though.”  
  
“How old are you again?” Chanyeol laughed, only to receive a scowl from Baekhyun.  
  
“What does age have anything to do with wanting to search for stars?” He huffed, then bit on his lower lip, his voice soft. “I think they’re beautiful. I used to live in the countryside where I could see the stars whenever the skies were clear. I guess coming to the city, getting thrust into this hectic lifestyle of mine… I’m still not used to the change in routines yet.”  
  
“Resisting change is one of those instincts imbued in a human, I suppose.” Chanyeol mused as he lit a cigarette and took a deep drag of it. He should know; he had been so unused to the sudden disappearance of Kris that he had wallowed in self-pity for a good three months before Kyungsoo marched right up to him and knocked his senses back in. Even as they speak, Chanyeol was still trying to refrain from admitting his true feelings for Baekhyun, despite the rapid beating of his heart or how his thoughts seem to revolve around Baekhyun way too much to be healthy.  
  
Chanyeol added another change that he would try to resist to his list when Baekhyun stole the cigarette out of his fingertips and stubbed it out.  
  
“Smoking isn’t good for your health.” Baekhyun sighed, looking apologetically at Chanyeol when the younger man seemed unhappy at his actions. “Or, at least promise me you wouldn’t smoke around me?”  
  
“I’ll consider. You’ll have to convince me to see things your way.” Chanyeol said teasingly, wondering what Baekhyun was up to when the older man took another sip of his wine.  
  
He found out moments later, when Baekhyun suddenly pressed his lips against Chanyeol’s, injecting the liquid into his mouth. As they kissed, Chanyeol decided that he definitely wouldn’t mind drinking wine in such a manner.

†

 

“Heechul hyung and Jungmo hyung aren’t really pleased to see you hanging around with Baekhyun, you know,” Kyungsoo told him on one of their rare meetings at EXO over smoke and alcohol and people trying to invade their private space; just like old times.  
  
Chanyeol bristled at the comment. Of course Kyungsoo  _had_  to choose the one day they finally get to hang out by themselves to lecture him about his private life. “You can ask them to go fuck themselves.” He growled, earning a disapproving look from Kyungsoo which he duly ignored. “I hate how Jungmo hyung does drugs like they’re some vitamin pills, and how Heechul hyung sleeps around with a different girl each day, but you don’t see me complaining now, do you?”  
  
“They’re just feeling uneasy. There’s no need to act like you have a stick up your ass, Chanyeol.” Kyungsoo sighed, though he knew where Chanyeol was coming from. It was no one’s prerogative to dictate whom Chanyeol should and should not hang out with.  
  
“I’m not.” Chanyeol denied flatly. “They should start turning up for band practices if they want to take over the hyung role again. We haven’t been playing new songs for quite some time.”  
  
“They’re busy.” Kyungsoo said dismissively, changing the subject before Chanyeol began ranting off in a different direction. He didn’t want to end up having an argument with Chanyeol over the rest of their band mates. “Seriously, though; you’ve been going out with Baekhyun way too frequently these days. What’s up?”  
  
Chanyeol frowned at him. “Nothing; we’re just friends. Weren’t you the one who was trying to get me to talk to him in the beginning?”  
  
Kyungsoo had the nerve to look sheepish at the question. “I was, but I didn’t expect your relationship to pick up like a bullet train.” He said. “Don’t you think you should slow down a little? Maybe take some time off to think about where this is all going?”  
  
“Are you trying to lecture me now?”  
  
“I’m just worried, Chanyeol.” Kyungsoo exhaled tiredly. It was difficult to engage in a prolonged conversation with Chanyeol when he was ticked; the man seemed to be able to find everything under the sun to rebut his words. “The last time these things happened, you ended up wading through a cesspool because of Kris.”  
  
Despite Kyungsoo’s reluctance to dredge up Chanyeol’s past (God knows how much Chanyeol hated the subject), he had no choice but to remind him. Chanyeol was getting embroiled with Baekhyun a little too fast, his emotions pulling him along on a joyride that was probably bound for hell at the end of it, and Kyungsoo didn’t want to witness a repeat of the soulless Chanyeol when the shit finally hits the fan – if it ever happens, that is. He believed it was his duty as Chanyeol’s friend to give him a kick in the ass, just so the guitarist could stop and make a proper evaluation of things.  
  
“I know what I’m doing, Kyungsoo.” Chanyeol snapped impatiently. “Now do you want to drink, or do you want to keep talking? Because I’m going to kick your ass and take my leave if you pick the latter.”  
  
Kyungsoo sighed in defeat and picked his shot glass up. “Fine, I’ll stop. I really do hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, though.”  
  
Chanyeol duly ignored him.

†

 

They were randomly lounging on Baekhyun’s queen-sized bed one night, having Baekhyun’s house all for themselves because his parents were out of the country. Kyungsoo was throwing a party at the apartment shared between him and Chanyeol that night, but neither of them felt remotely sociable so they excused themselves, amidst a very suggestive wriggle of the eyebrows from Kyungsoo. Chanyeol made sure to smack him at the back of his head for good measure.  
  
He was strumming a random melody on his acoustic guitar, something which he hasn’t done in a long while, when Baekhyun’s mesmerising voice joined him in perfect harmony. There was a haunting charm to it, much unlike the usual feelings Chanyeol derived from Baekhyun’s singing voice. It spoke of sorrows, cravings, desires. If Baekhyun always put his heart into performing on stage for the audience at EXO, this time, he was putting his soul into it as well.  
  
The way Baekhyun looked up at Chanyeol from beneath his long lashes and through hooded eyes when he finishes his song pushed the guitarist over the edge. With a low, throaty growl, Chanyeol had Baekhyun pinned under him, his gaze lustful and hungry as he stared down at Baekhyun.  
  
“Promise me you’ll only sing like that to me.” Chanyeol growled. His request was accepted with a shy nod of the head from Baekhyun, and in turn, he rewarded the smaller man by kissing, sucking, nipping at the skin of Baekhyun’s neck, leaving his mark on Baekhyun’s pale skin.  
  
Chanyeol enjoyed how Baekhyun writhed under him as he palmed Baekhyun’s erection through the fabric of his jeans, Baekhyun’s nails scraping over the skin of his back, leaving angry, red trails when his shirt came off moments later. Baekhyun’s top soon followed, their clothing items strewn all over Baekhyun’s bedroom floor as Chanyeol takes one nipple between his teeth and making the pain and pleasure shoot through Baekhyun’s senses.  
  
Baekhyun’s grunts and moans were music to Chanyeol’s ears, a potent aphrodisiac in its own right, intensifying when Chanyeol slipped into him for the first time. Chanyeol’s length stretched him wide, but as soon as he was adjusted to Chanyeol’s erection, it drove him wild with ecstasy and pleasure. It was several minutes later, or maybe several hours later – Chanyeol didn’t know, didn’t care – that he came hard into Baekhyun, and Baekhyun spilled himself between their stomachs, the whiteness contrasting against the fairness of his skin, and the both of them lay spent and satisfied on the bed.  
  
Chanyeol surprised them both when he uttered  _I love you_  in the blanket of sleep that soon claimed him from the exhaustion.

†

 

He took in a deep breath to calm his nerves as he exchanged a glance with the drummer, wondering whether their chemistry was adequate to ensure a seamless performance together. It hadn’t been long since they had started playing together, and the usual confidence Chanyeol had while being on stage was nowhere near palpable.  
  
But the cue given by Siwon was perfect, and Chanyeol loses himself in the new music that surrounded him, allowing his being to be claimed by the huskiness of Baekhyun’s voice. It was a new yet very much welcomed sensation, and he found himself more at ease performing with Storm, even if he was new to the group.  
  
Maybe he was jaded from being with Third Gate for way too long, with no assurances that they would make it to the bigger stage; no one liked to be confined to performing in small bars for the rest of their lives – not his band mates, and definitely not Chanyeol.  
  
Chanyeol didn’t know how Baekhyun had managed to persuade him into taking over their ex-guitarist, Sungmin’s place in the band, but Storm’s vocalist had succeeded. Perhaps it was because of those tearful, puppy eyes that Chanyeol found hard to resist, or perhaps it was because his mind was clouded from the sensation of Baekhyun’s hot mouth around his length. Either way, he was here, on stage with Storm despite holding on to the identity of being Third Gate’s prodigal guitarist. Baekhyun shared the same passion as Chanyeol in performing, and Chanyeol didn’t have the heart to deprive the older man the opportunity to sing on stage.  
  
It was only for one night, Chanyeol told himself, or at least until Storm found a replacement for Sungmin who had to leave for personal reasons. He made it part of the agreement that he would only play for Storm on the nights that Third Gate wasn’t performing (which was plenty, now that Chanyeol had realised, for the sheer amount of times either Heechul, or Jungmo, or both disappeared from the scene; Kyungsoo never showed up at EXO unless Third Gate was supposed to perform, either). He convinced himself that it was only fair for him to do so, when in reality, he was trying to pacify his guilt.  
  
But the moment he stepped off the stage, laughing happily and playfully shoving Baekhyun as the vocalist received the audience’s recognition, something connected with the side of Chanyeol’s face, and his sense of vision blacked out.  
  
He reeled around and managed to hold his ground with Baekhyun’s support as the pain registered in his senses and the darkness faded away from his sight, his temper flaring as he searched for his attacker. By this time, the patrons of EXO began crowding around the group, breaths held in anticipation for an imminent fight to break out. Drunken brawls were common in the vicinity, but none of them ever involved members from the same band going up against each other.  
  
Chanyeol froze when he found Heechul, arms crossed and evidently fuming, watching him with a measured glare. Jungmo was right next to him, appearing much more sober than Chanyeol had ever remembered him to be, and Kyungsoo stood a distance away. Chanyeol thought Kyungsoo almost looked disappointed at him. The pang of guilt struck him hard and fast, and Chanyeol averted his gaze at once. Instead, he projected his guilt as being incredibly annoyed.  
  
“Heechul hyung, Jungmo hyung, what the hell?”  
  
“That should be  _our_  question, Chanyeol.” Heechul snapped, his glare shifting from Chanyeol to take in Baekhyun, Jonghyun, and Siwon’s defensive forms. “What do you think you’re doing, playing with them? Do you even remember where you’re supposed to be, or did your senses get fucked out of your brains by this boy?” His lips pulled up into a sneer as he locked gazes with Baekhyun.  
  
Whatever respect Chanyeol had for Heechul dissipated without a trace at that one sentence. Heechul was taken by surprise when Chanyeol fisted his shirt by the collar and pushed him up against the wall. “ _Don’t you talk thrash about Baekhyun._ ” He warned with a snarl. “I’m here on my own accord. It has nothing to do with any of them.”  
  
“Defending them now, are you? Do you really think we’re completely clueless about what’s going on between the both of you?” Jungmo stepped in this time, tone condescending. “Chanyeol, Chanyeol. Where does your loyalty lie?”  
  
Chanyeol’s eyes narrowed in response. “My loyalty has always been, and will always be with Third Gate. Why is this even a concern?”  
  
“Because it doesn’t seem like it.” A smirk pulled up on the corner of Heechul’s lips, his gaze falling on how Baekhyun’s hand rested on Chanyeol’s arm. Chanyeol seemed to notice that, and shrugged Baekhyun’s hand off with an inconspicuous thin-lipped smile of apology.  
  
“I’m only chasing after my dreams of playing on stage, hyung.” Chanyeol stated evenly as he turned back to face Heechul. “Tell me, how am I supposed to perform when you and Jungmo hyung disappear on a daily fucking basis to do some godforsaken things that only you know of?”  
  
Jungmo bristled at the accusation. “You didn’t seem to have minded it in the past. Why are you bringing this up now?”  
  
“ _Because_ ,” Chanyeol stressed in agitation, “I am  _fucking sick and tired_  of your disappearing acts. Third Gate has been on a steady decline because of you, and you blatantly turn a blind eye against that, just to chase after things we promised we would stay away from. So don’t you fucking question my loyalty when you can’t even ensure yours is still intact. I’ve had about enough of this shit;  _fuck you_.”  
  
Heechul doesn’t utter a word of protest or caution, his fist automatically coming up to connect with the side of Chanyeol’s face again, sending the taller man sprawling across the cold marble floor.

†

 

Baekhyun gently pressed the hard-boiled egg wrapped in a towel on one of the larger patch of bruises on Chanyeol’s cheek, recoiling when a pained hiss escaped his lover’s lips. Not wanting to do any more damage than he probably had, Baekhyun exhaled softly and placed the object in his hands on the side table, then snuggled up to Chanyeol and kissed the cut on the edge of his lip.  
  
“I’m sorry, Yeol.” He whispered against Chanyeol’s lips, shuddering when the guitarist’s hand came up to draw random circles on the bare skin of his shoulder and back.  
  
“What are you apologising for?” Chanyeol chuckled and glanced down at the man in his arms, admiring how the thick eyeliner accentuated Baekhyun’s eyes.  
  
“If I hadn’t persuaded you to fill in for Sungmin hyung, you wouldn’t have–” His words were swallowed up when Chanyeol tilted his head upwards by the chin and claimed his mouth in a lingering kiss, leaving Baekhyun lightheaded and breathless.  
  
When Chanyeol pulled away, there was a disapproving light in his eyes. “Stop putting the blame on yourself. I was the one who agreed to play for Storm. Besides, Heechul hyung and Jungmo hyung are crazy. Pay no heed to them.”  
  
“But–” Baekhyun began to protest again, only to bite on his lip to stop himself when Chanyeol’s eyes narrowed, asking him to  _drop the subject already_. He sighed again. “Is it really okay for you to be with me after that fight? Won’t they get upset again?”  
  
“Screw what they think.” Chanyeol made a face. He even made sure to bring Baekhyun back to his shared apartment, just so he could spite his band mates further if they happened to stop by. “This is my life to live, not theirs. They can shove their opinions up their own asses.”  
  
Baekhyun tucked some of Chanyeol’s hair at the back of his prominent ear and caressed his swollen cheek. “They’re still your friends, Chanyeol. You should sit down and talk things out with them.”  
  
Chanyeol frowned, then nodded reluctantly. “Maybe some other day. We can’t talk when we’re all pissed as fuck at each other.” He promised, and pressed himself flush against Baekhyun. “On the other hand,  _you_  make me incredibly happy.”  
  
“And you me,” Baekhyun echoed, gasping when he felt Chanyeol’s finger slipping easily into his semen-lubricated hole. They hadn’t cleaned up after their earlier lovemaking session, and Chanyeol used it to his advantage, adding another finger as he pumps his digits in an increasing pace.  
  
Just as Chanyeol was poised to push himself into Baekhyun minutes later, their attentions were drawn towards the direction of the door when Kyungsoo’s shouting voice echoed throughout the unit.  
  
 _Chanyeol! Baekhyun needs to get the fuck out of the house right now!_ , the younger man had yelled, and Chanyeol was beginning to think that Kyungsoo didn’t welcome Baekhyun’s presence at all when he realised that something was amiss. He exchanged a confused glance with Baekhyun, and before Baekhyun could even clarify the situation, Chanyeol was already dragging him out of the sheets and trying to get him dressed as quickly as he could.  
  
His room door flung open barely seconds later when Baekhyun was attempting to pull his boxers up without tripping over the undergarment, momentarily stunning them both. Everything else happened in a blur, ending with the sound of an open palm connecting against cheek reverberating in the air, lingering long after the deed was done.  
  
Baekhyun pressed his own hand against his stinging cheek, and looked up with confused tears in his eyes which quickly dissolves into that of shock. “Father…?” His voice came out as a meek rasp, unable to wrap his head around what was going on at the moment. He tried to come up with reasons as to why his _parents_  were standing right here in  _Chanyeol’s_   _apartment_ , witnessing the dirt and filth that is their son himself.  
  
“Your mother and I  _trusted_  that you were out studying all this while, and this is how you repay us?” A deep, unfamiliar voice boomed and shattered the silence, this time jolting Chanyeol out of his stunned state. He found an older couple watching them with judging gazes, and Kyungsoo who appeared apologetic.  
  
“Who do you think you are–”  
  
The man who Chanyeol assumed was Baekhyun’s father silenced him with a sharp, furious glare. “You have no right to question me.” He spelled the words out slowly and clearly, then realisation flashed in his eyes as he took in the sight of Chanyeol, clad only in his sheets. “ _You_. You’re the one who corrupted my son.”  
  
“Father, this isn’t what you think it is–” Baekhyun tried to distract his father, though it only served to fuel the man’s anger.  
  
“This is  _exactly_  what it looks like, Baekhyun. I don’t recall having raised you to have another man’s cock shoved up your ass, and by useless trash like him, too.” His father seethed, fists tightly clenched by his sides. Baekhyun knew better than to agitate him further, but he couldn’t take having his father mocking Chanyeol in such a manner.  
  
“You’re in no position to talk about Chanyeol like that, Father. You don’t know Chanyeol.” He spoke up, tone silent but angered. “He makes me happy, and that is something you and Mother will never be able to provide to me.”  
  
His father’s eyes narrowed into slits at Baekhyun’s words. “ _What_  did you say?”  
  
Baekhyun refused to back down from the challenge. He couldn’t stand up for Chanyeol when Kris reopened his old wounds from the past, or when Heechul threw punch after punch at him at the bar earlier, but this was the least he could do: to protect Chanyeol from his father. Chanyeol didn’t have to suffer through the insults.  
  
“I have never been happy with my life, with the way you control it, not until I met Chanyeol. I regret _nothing_  from this.” He gritted out, ignoring how his mother turned away in disappointment. He knew he couldn’t show any signs of weakness now; everything would turn to naught if he did.  
  
And Baekhyun recoiled when his father slapped him across the face again, this time with a force so strong that it sent Baekhyun stumbling towards the bedside table. Had Chanyeol not caught him in time, he would’ve received a deep gash on his forehead by now. Still, Baekhyun eyes were intense as he glared at his father, resenting him for each and every thing the older man had done to him.  
  
“You’re a  _disgrace_  to the family, Baekhyun.” The man hissed through clenched teeth, his face flushed red, the hand which was held up trembling from fury. “I will not allow you to see him again. Get into the car.  _Now._  We have more things to discuss when we get home.” At this, Baekhyun’s father shot a hateful glare at Chanyeol again before storming out of the room, and Chanyeol cursed his inability to speak up against the man. Respect for the elders had been ingrained in him since he was young, and regardless of the fact that Chanyeol thought he didn’t warrant the respect, Chanyeol still couldn’t find the words to say.  
  
His frustration changes into bewilderment when Baekhyun stiffly removed himself from Chanyeol’s arms, and silently picked up his discarded clothes from the ground before putting them on. “Baekhyun…” Chanyeol breathed in a bare whisper, trying to reach for Baekhyun’s arms, only to let his hand fall by his side when Baekhyun moved away. “Baekhyun, why aren’t you saying something about this?”  
  
Chanyeol’s heart fell into the pit of his stomach when Baekhyun turned around and flashed a thin smile at him, the sorrow evident in his eyes. “You saw what happened. I don’t have a choice.” His voice is quiet, pained, on the verge of breaking, and it struck Chanyeol that Baekhyun was giving up. He was giving up on them.  
  
“You  _have_  a choice, Baekhyun. Don’t you always go against your parents’ orders? What makes this any different?” Chanyeol pleaded, wrapping his arms around Baekhyun’s smaller frame when the man was momentarily distracted by his belt. He felt Baekhyun’s warm breath ghosting over the skin of his neck, and the hot tears making a steady trail down his torso, but he refused to let go to check on him.  
  
“I can’t have you bearing the brunt of my selfishness, Chanyeol. You are a great person. You don’t deserve to get insulted in such a manner by anyone at all, not even by my father.”  
  
His grip around Baekhyun tightened. “I’m not going to let you do this, Baekhyun.  _Please,_ listen to me _._ ”  
  
A surprised gasp erupted from Chanyeol when Baekhyun pushed himself away with all his might. His gaze was determined as he glanced at Chanyeol, his eyes red-rimmed. “No, Chanyeol.  _You_  listen to me. I promise I’ll get things sorted out, and then I’ll come back, okay?” He said with conviction, throwing his head backwards when his father bellowed for him again.  
  
“ _Please, trust me on this._ ” Baekhyun implored with renewed urgency, and Chanyeol had no choice but to agree. Only then did Baekhyun flash a sincere smile at Chanyeol, and pressed one last kiss on his lips.  
  
It was one that spoke of hopes that might never be, promises that might be shattered; it left Chanyeol feeling hollow, and he knew it was all too late when the main door shuts tight behind Baekhyun.

†

 

A sigh escaped his lips. Pressing his palms against the ice-cold railing of his balcony, he glanced longingly at the dark skies above him. He tried desperately to find the slightest hint of brightness interspersed in the heavily-clouded sky, but all he could make out was the city lights polluting the once star-studded space above.  
  
Dejected, he fell back into the armchair behind him, observing the blood-red liquid swirling about in the glass in his hand instead. He took a large gulp of the wine, allowing the drunken stupor to take over his consciousness and sanity once more.  
  
When was the last time he saw a single star again?  
  
Things fell into a downward spiral in a fairly rapid speed, and as Chanyeol had learned through the hard way, the same things  _can_  happen twice.  
  
Baekhyun was akin to the ever elusive stars in the night skies of the city to Chanyeol, shining brightly in one moment, completely imperceptible in the next. Everything that had happened – the obstacles, the opposition, the inevitable separation – these were the clouds and city lights that obscured the stars from view, ruining what was supposed to be a perfectly painted canvas of the night sky.  
  
But at least the skies would clear up, and the stars would shine once again in their full glory when the city lights dimmed down. Baekhyun, however, would probably never appear in Chanyeol’s life once again.  
  
He had disappeared into thin air – much like Kris had, years ago – after the night where both Baekhyun’s parents paid Chanyeol’s apartment a visit uninvited. No messages, no letters, not even a hint of what Baekhyun had in mind. Nothing.  
  
Chanyeol laughed bitterly at himself, wondering whether he had been dropped on the head as a baby.  
  
How could he possibly be so stupid as to believe that miracles would happen, that Baekhyun would be successful in convincing his parents to let them be together? Above all, he didn’t think he could be more stupid than to indulge himself in the things that reminded him of Baekhyun – the wine, the star-gazing. It was a form of sustenance for him, a drug that he couldn’t let go. He was more emotionally involved with Baekhyun than he had imagined.  
  
He no longer immersed himself in music, however, not even when Kyungsoo told him Third Gate was being offered a recording contract (which was the basis of Heechul and Jungmo’s anger when they chanced upon Chanyeol performing with Storm, thinking that he was betraying Third Gate for a newer group). He didn’t think music would hurt him so much after Baekhyun’s disappearance, but it did. His guitar cases were left to collect dust at a corner of his room, hidden from sight and mind for the past year. Chanyeol began to wonder whether he could still play the instruments now.  
  
“Are you still wallowing in your pool of despair, Chanyeol?” Kyungsoo’s teasing voice came from behind, pulling Chanyeol’s attention towards the younger man.  
  
Chanyeol scowled at him. “What do you want with me, Kyungsoo? Leave me alone for just one night, could you?” Sometimes, he didn’t know why he was still putting up with Kyungsoo. Probably the food.  
  
“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.” A frown replaced Kyungsoo’s previously cheerful expressions. “Here.”   
  
Chanyeol looked up when Kyungsoo tossed something in his direction, catching it deftly in his hands. Before he could even ask Kyungsoo what it was, the younger man had already stalked off in the direction of the kitchen, presumably to whip up supper.  
  
He pouted a little then stared at the envelope in his hands, the pads of his fingers tracing over the sticker which held his name and address. It was odd for someone to send something via snail mail at this time and age, and the fact that Chanyeol knew absolutely no one who was living overseas made the situation even more peculiar.  
  
But Chanyeol’s heart literally stopped the moment he unfolded the letter contained within and recognised the neat handwriting printed on it.  
  
It was distinctly Byun Baekhyun’s. 


End file.
